Wedding Planning For Neurosurgeons
by TrueBlondie
Summary: And they said it wasn't brain surgery...Derek's POV MD


It's March 13 and I propose yesterday. I, Derek Shepard am marrying one Meredith Grey soon to be Shepard. Meredith never wanted a big wedding just something simple. The one thing she did want was for us to write are own vows. I can see it now Derek Shepard world class neurosurgeon turned author. Of course I agreed, on one condition no lilies. Mer has a strong hate for those oddly shaped flowers. I am not the modern day Shakespear so I did the unthinkable, I called my sister Nancy.

So I called Nancy earlier today. Mostly our conversation consisted of was what, why, and how but I convinced my dear sister that Meredith was the love of my life and nothing would ever change that. After that it was smooth sailing. Nancy being a psychiatrist, thought I should write a list of what I love and what I hate about my Meredith. It will help you write your vows, she said. Under one condition she would tell mom and dad. This was causing poor Dr. Shepard to want an extremely strong drink.

I'm sitting here, with a pen and paper thinking of what I hate about my Mer. I really don't hate anything about her. This was going to be harder than I thought. She was already sabotaging our engagement 3,000 miles away. It's been an hour then I finally write something.

_10 Things I Hate Love About Meredith Shepard_

_1._

I hear the door swing open. It's Meredith with at least ten shopping bags. I ask her what's in them, but am quickly shooed out of the kitchen after she started to try and cook. I make my way up the stairs of her house and being to write again.

Ha, more like try and write. I'm like one of those kids who pretends to do their homework. It's been over two hours now and I feel rather stupid. I'm marrying the woman I love and can't think of a single thing to say why I love her. I really can see it now Derek Shepard world class procrastinator. I start to stare off into space, when I spot my ipod nano. It's blue, like my eyes that Meredith love, she has a matching one in green. I flip through the songs. I can't decide between Mims and Shakira, I flip to Hips Don't Lie.

_Ladies up in here tonight  
No fighting, no fighting  
We got the refugees up in here  
No fighting, no fighting_

_Shakira, Shakira_

_I never really knew that she could dance like this  
She makes a man wants to speak Spanish  
Como se llama (si), bonita (si), mi casa (si, Shakira Shakira), su casa  
Shakira, Shakira_

_Oh baby when you talk like that  
You make a woman go mad  
So be wise and keep on  
Reading the signs of my body  
And I'm on tonight  
You know my hips don't lie  
And I'm starting to feel it's right  
All the attraction, the tension  
Don't you see baby, this is perfection_

The catchy song takes a back seat when Meredith calls me down for dinner. As I make my way down the stairs I smell tomato sauce and some kind of odd burning aroma. Mer is just now setting the table. This is a rare occasion, take out is usually our gourmet meal. I have gained ten pounds since we moved into our new house that was build on the ten acres. She always jokes about how she would rather have a boyfriend with a six pack than a keg. There is also to glasses of wine on the maple wood table. Meredith explains to me that the burning smell was lasagna, very very burnt lasagna. That plan back fired so it was instant Ramen for the Shepard-Grey couple.

During dinner we talk of the wedding. The invitations, party planners, and strippers. I have no idea how strippers got into the topic but I loved it. Meredith knew exactly who to call. Mark, don't ask me why. The two known as the dirty mistress club or something had become friends. I still hate him in a way, but if he hadn't slept with Addison I would of never met Meredith. I owe him a man hug, but that would be awkward.

The next thing she says something so odd, I had to do a double take. My Meredith wanted to know if Mark was ever a stripper. For a second I eyed her wine glass it was half full. She was joking, luckily I didn't have to share the time Mark got drunk at Hooters. Maybe I should reconsider having him throw the bachleor party...

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yes that was uber short but should I continue? Please review and let me know!**


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